


Selkies Bride

by CousinNick



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Selkies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-01
Updated: 2012-06-08
Packaged: 2017-11-06 11:30:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/418400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CousinNick/pseuds/CousinNick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mathias, the Seal Lord has come in from the sea to collect Nikolas for his beautiful bride! Nikolas is terrified, but then he learns that at the stroke of midnight, if the Seal Lord is not returned to the sea, he could die horribly into a wave of foam! Nikolas must help Mathias before it's too late! Rated M for reasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Seal Lord

I have been creating a lot of SuFin stories and have neglected the awesomeness that is DenNor! So, I aim to fix that with this mythical tale! This story is based on the old legends of Selkies, seal shape shifting creatures that dwell in the waves of the sea. They are mythological creatures who, when stripped of their seal skin, turn in a human sought out for their beauty by fishermen for wives or husbands. This is the tale of a lone Selkie lord who is in search of a beautiful human maiden for his bride... I DO NOT OWN HETALIA! Reviews are always welcome!

…...

Nikolas tugged lightly at the crystalline clear thread that tossed and pulled against the currants of the freezing and rough waters of the Norwegian sea. The water rose and swallowed up at the rocks beneath his feet with grumbling rage. The young Norwegian of twenty two stared at the ravaged water that lapped up at his feet, relentlessly scraping against the huge granite rocks that he was perched on. The dull navy blue eyed man sighed and rested his head in his slightly chilled and pale hands, watching the water toss and swirl against the fishing line that was haphazardly slithering through the shallow waters of the foam. Nikolas closed his eyes softly, the wind ruffling up his hair in messy tuffs and waves.

He had been out here all morning, content to just stare at the roaring ocean that deafened his ears and chilled him to the bone. The young Norwegian had woken up early this morning to a freezing cold day, his feet skidding against the wooden floor of his tiny bed room, his body shaking in the icy air of the small two story cottage...A small two story empty cottage...

A few weeks ago, Nikolas's younger half brother had packed up his things and left the fishing village of Norway to go to college in Iceland's city capital of Reykjavik, leaving Nikolas all alone in the small fishing hut that his family owned since he and his brother were small little child.

Nikolas sighed with painful breath as he looked outward towards the ocean, the rising currants gliding and crashing against each other as if each wave was in a heated battle for dominance. Nikolas gripped his hands tighter against the homemade fishing pole of ash and willow and playfully tugged at the line, his lips parting to heave out a heavy sigh.

He was happy for his brother, he really was, but now that his little pale faced, wonder eyed sibling had left to get an education, it left Nikolas alone, all by his lonesome in a town two sizes to small. Nikolas had hardly anything to do to occupy his time. He had already went and done many things since his parents accidental death. After hearing the news six years ago that his parents had died in a car accident on their trip to Oslo, Nikolas had filled in the role of provider at the early age of sixteen.* He had taken care of and raised his brother, performed odd jobs to keep each other fed, kept the fishing business going and thriving, and even scrapped and saved enough money to graduate from college. But now...

He was the only one left, alone on the small little hut by the Norwegian sea, left to fish for herring and cod to sell at the small fishing market. Nikolas stared down at the swirling pools of water beneath him, the slithering sand dancing along against the rocks, chipping and drowning in the icy grip of the foamy ocean.

"There must be more to my life then selling molding fish..." Nikolas growled out irritably. Somewhere behind him a sea gull cried mournfully and swooped down to the waters edge to pluck out a small silver fish, the aquatic animal flailing wildly. Nikolas sighed wearily and lazily lulled the tip of the pole in the water, making off-set circles with the nimble wood against the pale mirrored surface of the currant.

But he wasn't completely alone, no... His cousin Tino and his Fiance lived close by, a few miles down to the left of the shoreline, in a small cozy cottage with their adopted son and small, six pound white dog. Nikolas would make it a habit to visit them often and it did wonders to ease his loneliness, but it wasn't nearly enough to entirely erase the Norwegians dejected attitude. He couldn't fight the sickening feeling of loneliness that wracked his body like the unforgiving sea. Perhaps he should just sell this place. Sell the small timber built fishing hut that was crowded with moss and rainy mud, sell the small cottage that was barricaded with too many painful memories, sell the thin outstretch of shoreline that had belonged to his family throughout the ages, perhaps even as long as the vikings times, when they used to pillaged and uproot the docile valleys and verdant hills of the sleepy village. Sell this old life, run away from it like he had never gotten a chance to.

He was sick of being tough, being the crutch, the dependable one. He was always afraid of letting all of his worries flood out, afraid to let the salty tears flow down at his small and shaking feet. He was afraid to always be the one that needed to hold things together, to keep everyone happy while sacrificing his own happiness. It was hard, and damned if it didn't hurt.

Nikolas paused and clutched his hand to his face, wiping his eyes with the heel of his palm, his nose wrinkling slightly from the cold. Nikolas stared downward at the rushing and curling water that drummed in his ears and mimicked his heart in its monstrous thudding and beating hissing noises. Nikolas's heart beat throbbed along with the water, along with the oceans cool and cleansing strength. The young man bowed his head down and did what he had wanted to do for so long. He bent his head to the water, wrapped his hands around his shaking body tightly, and cried.

The tears poured downward in a flurry of strength, relentless and stinging, they streaked his cheeks and dripped down into the chilled and frothing waters of the ocean, seven tears, each silvery clear, each reverently shed.

Nikolas sniffed and rubbed his already bright red nose, his dull navy blue eyes clouded and distraught. He frowned and wiped away the last of the tears, feeling silly and a bit babyish. But no matter what, it had felt good. Finally allowing himself to cry a bit, to chip some of the burden off, well, it made him feel fresher, newer, better. Nikolas sighed exhaustively before wedging his feet against a few scraggly rocks. The currant swirled and fed at the edged of his jeans, crawling up hungrily, leaving the material soaked. Nikolas sighed and pushed himself up off of the granite stone boulders, skidding his hands against the rough and calloused sand split surface of the stones.

Nikolas was about to pack up his small tackle box and hike his soaked feet up the small sand and saw grass laden path that led up to the stoney stairs of his cream and blue trimmed cottage when he felt the line of his fishing rod suddenly go taunt. Blinking in surprise, Nikolas turned back to the ash and willow pole that was safely nestled into the jagged cracks of some sandstone, sea water and bits of kelp dripping off of it in waves.

Nikolas quickly grabbed at the pole and gripped his fingers over the reel, pulling and winding it up, dragging the now quivering line upward. Nikolas struggled with the line, the weight from whatever was connected to it hulking and pushing against it. Nikolas bit his lip and steadied his feet securely on the ragged and slightly sharp platform of the stones and golden sand. He furrowed his brow and raised his arms to his head, dragging the shaking and bending fishing pole up with him.

A few seconds of struggle passed, the Norwegians grip still battling with the beast in the murky water that had happily took his bait, before Nikolas's eyes darted around to the sea. A few seals had lazily swam in from the sunken rocks in the ocean off to the coast to watch the pale haired, dull eyed boy fight against the monstrous fish that was no doubt chewing on the end of his fishing hook. Nikolas did not even dare to wipe the sweat from his brow, his hair dragging against his forehead from the uproarious wind that whip lashed and tugged at Nikolas's rigid body, his small cross hair clip doing absolutely nothing in holding his locks back.

A few seals, hulking, puddled in mass with doe full brown eyes that matched their thick and slippery coats waddled closer to the Norsemen. A huge one, with heavy whiskers dolloping his face, opened his mouth to let out a deep sound, almost like a laugh. Nikolas glared at the massive animal before pushing his feet backward, not wanting to loose his catch or fall off of the rocks. He made a clucking noise with his teeth and tongue, trying to hiss the seals away, knowing that they probably wanted a share of his catch.

The seals slapped at the water with their huge flipper-like-hands, their beady black eyes shining with oddity that looked like laughter. They were laughing at Nikolas.

The Norwegian growled and hiked up his sweatshirt sleeves, still keeping his hands on the fishing pole and reel. Nikolas gritted his teeth, and with a mighty yank of his arms, shoulders squared, feet planted, he threw all his weight up and pulled at the line.

The milky white of the fishing line strained against Nikolas's reel and the mouth of whatever had swallowed it. Nikolas grunted with frustration, his arms feeling as if they were being pulled out of their sockets. He tried to make a few more quick jabs with his hands, thrusting upward, but the beast underneath the murky and foamy water only bit back fiercely and swam in what felt like tight circles against the rocks between Nikolas's feet.

"Damn bastard..." Nikolas breathed out with hot and heavy breath. He licked his chapped lips and set his hands up, as if he was brandishing a sword with all his might. He was about to try to jab the line up again when he felt the beast underneath the water tug relentlessly in a flurry of strength on the line, surprising Nikolas. The Norwegian did his best to control the reel that was bending dangerously low, close to snapping in two from the pressure of the monster underneath the water. Yes, Nikolas was sure it was a monster that was spitting and spiraling underneath the water. It must be, no fish he had ever caught had fought him as much as this one! Nikolas gnashed his teeth together and watched with horror as the line was thrown forward from the gigantic beast's power, the edges of a brown and velvety tail sputtering in the shards of crashing waves. Nikolas's eyes widened as the great and ferocious beast gave one final smash of his tail before Nikolas felt his body being pulled into the thundering waves, his feet loosing balance and tumbling underneath him. A silent scream was torn from Nikolas's parted lips as his body was thrown into the mass of icy and frothing water, his body being devoured by the monstrous waves, and soon the beast. Nikolas shut his eyes tight and screamed against the water, his lungs burning painfully. This was it...it was all over...He was going to die...

Splash!

Nikolas was sputtering. He coughed loudly as he felt the weight of the water bore down on him like gripping hands pulling him down to the murky depths. Nikolas did his best to push up against anything, sand, stone, wood, anything to help him reach the surface. It was only when his body started to go limp from the numbing cold that Nikolas opened his eyes, the icy and salty water stinging against his frantic and rolling gaze. But suddenly, he felt someone or something dig their hands harshly into his waist and heave him up against the protest of the waves. Nikolas lulled his head back, his eyes shut painfully tight, lungs burning and frantically devouring any amount of air available.

But slowly, softly, Nikolas could feel the water around him calm and melt into stillness, the foamy and sickly smelling waves lightly washing over his arms and legs. Nikolas coughed and spit up a few mouthfuls of water, his head spinning, fingers achingly cold. He felt around and realized that he was laying onto of a bar of sand, the warmer and tangible sea water raking up and down his body in rolling waves. Nikolas cleared his throat painfully as he cracked open one of his eyes, his body feeling heavier than normal.

Nikolas flutterd his eye lashes against his cheeks, shivering slightly from the dampened water that drenched his body. He stared upwards, expecting to see the cloudy and milky grey of the sky overhead, gulls swooping with silver wings. What he did not expect, was to see the wide and bright grin of white sharp teeth. Nikolas's eyes blinked surprisingly before he raised his stunned eyes to look at the whole face that was attached to the grin.

His dull opaque gaze met with bright and stunning blue eyes that looked like the color of the brightest of sea glass, watery and brimming with warmth. Musty and wild golden hair frothed around the mans head and ears, muddied water of the sea dripped hurriedly down his cheeks and nose. Little wisps of sand clung on the smooth and masculine jawbones that connected to those pale grinning lips. Nikolas blinked before swallowing thickly. His savior was...Gorgeous.

"Ah...Th-thank you for saving me..." Nikolas breathed out with the smallest hints of damnable embarrassment, his breath still a bit shaky from the tumbling of the oceans power. He lightly tried to sit up only to notice that his body was being pinned down by the grinning males own muscular, taunt and naked body...Wait...?

Nikolas's eyes flashed with warning before he jutted his eyes over and across his saviors body. The males lower half was flush against Nikolas in a snugly embrace, the strangers arms leaning outward from Nikolas's waist, hands on either side of Norwegians face, one of the mans fists balled up into the wrappings of what looked like fur.

Nikolas blushed with embarrassment. He guessed that when the man had dove in the water to save him he must have lost his swimming trunks in the ripping and raging currant of the water... But... Nikolas paused and recoiled his body from the strangers. Nikolas didn't remember hearing a splash from someone plunging into the water to save him, he only heard the wild splashing of him being pulled in... Nikolas quickly looked over to the water combed with sharp and jagged rocks, the icy waves frothing at the mouth like some wild beast. No one would dare to swim in that water, not even with a wet suit. Something was wrong, very wrong...Nikolas could feel it.

Within a matter of seconds the young Norwegians eyes widened with full on panic. All he knew was that the situation didn't add up and that he should get the hell away from the naked man as soon as possible. Nikolas quickly shoved his body downward and to the side to try and escape the confines of the strange naked man who was still grinning like a maniac.

Nikolas shoved his hands up on the man's wet and slick chest, feeling the handsome strangers heart beat wildly against his slippery skin. Nikolas gritted his teeth and pushed up against the mans chest in an attempt to free himself from being pinned down. The man craned his head to the side, his lips frowning into a confused and sullen pout. Nikolas kicked his feet against the wet sand that seemed to be sucking him down before he was yanked back down and the grip of the mans hands on his wrists tightened, not harshly, but enough to make the skin of Nikolas's arms turn a bone white. Nikolas gritted his teeth and felt tears sting his eyes. The man suddenly paused and blinked quickly, water droplets falling from his eyelashes like crystals. Nikolas held his breath with fear and watched hesitantly as the man lowered his head against Nikolas's. The Norwegian didn't move an inch, afraid of what this man was capable of, of what he would do.

The man sighed with a lush whisper, parting his lips. The noise reminded Nikolas of when he was little and he used to press the smooth edges of sea shells to his ears to hear the ocean. This mans simple whisper was enough to reel Nikolas back and forth with emotions, his body straining against the mans powerfully built body.

Nikolas edged his eyes open and watched with sudden quietness as the man lightly caressed Nikolas's cheeks with his lips, the tingling of the mans breath similar to the sun shimmering on a tide pools surface. Nikolas made a small impish sound in the back of his throat, feeling his once spiteful resolve melt away with the water into the sand. Who was this man? Why did Nikolas feel so helpless in his presence? Nikolas did his best to strain his neck away from the mans lips, but before he knew it, the golden haired stranger had softly and sweetly kissed Nikolas's eyes, making the Norwegian blush heavily.

The man, humming low in his throat carefully kissed along Nikolas's eyes, licking at the salty tears that streaked and dotted the Norwegians flushed and angry red cheeks. Nikolas squirmed with confusion, his body twisting and doing its best to fight against the offending male. This felt weird, dangerous, wrong, and terribly...good...

Nikolas bit his lip harshly enough to draw blood before he shook his head and made a move to roll over and run the hell away from this pervert and potential rapist murderer. But before Nikolas could even move an inch, the man raised his head back and looked into Nikolas's eyes, the shattering blue orbs glinting with mischief and trouble. Nikolas swallowed harshly and opened his mouth to speak but was soon quieted by a pair of hungry and devoted lips.

Nikolas blinked madly as the stranger pushed his lips to his and began to feverishly smash them together, roughly and with purpose, with need. Nikolas made a small noise in the back of his throat that was soon swallowed by the naked strangers mouth in a desperate plead for more.

Nikolas squirmed and fought as best as he could, tossing his head back and forth, kicking his legs up and down, rolling his body side to side but still the stranger clung on until finally, just as Nikolas's lungs were about to starve from lack of air, the man released Nikolas's lips, his sharp teeth glinting in the clouded sunlight, his wild eyes laughing, and his grin as wide as ever. The man let go of the Norwegians wrists, his lips in a loose and smug smile.

Nikolas panted softly before his pale and sickly face turned the color of a roosters crown, red and angry, his eyes dangerously slitted, mouth in a tight scowl. Nikolas bit at the salty and arid air of the wind before he pulled his fist back and released it with a quick jab into the offending males nose. The man fell backwards into the shallow waves and clutched at his nose, blood dribbling downward in a steady stream that dyed the water around him a pale red. The males eyes widened with fright and shock. He looked down at his probably broken, or if not bruised nose and howled in pain, sinking into the icy waves of the water.

Nikolas took no hesitation as he propped himself up with his elbows and kicked up with his feet against the sand in an attempt to run to safety into the small cottage. He panted wildly and jerked his thumb into his soaking wet pants pocket and yanked out his slippery wet dark blue cell phone. He fumbled with it for a second before, still running like a mad dog, pressed the 'on' button on the small device. The screen remained a dull black. Nikolas hissed through his teeth with desperation before he hit the damn thing with his wrist, trying to get it to work. Still the screen stayed a mocking color, no hope of it ever awakening in time. Nikolas sighed with annoyance as the underlings of fear slowly began to constrict his throat.

The Norwegian quickly looked behind him, mindful that he might still be being chased. He looked back to the waves and saw the imprint in the sand from where he was held captive, but other than that the shoreline was empty save for a few seals lounging on a rock, making loud obnoxious sounds deep in their throat. Nikolas allowed himself to quiet his heart as he slowly turned back to making his way to the cottage, that is, until he bumped rather harshly into something wet and solid.

Nikolas landed achingly on his bum, his cell phone jerking from his hand, his elbows scrapping against pebbles and flakes of sand. Nikolas winced and squeezed his eyes tight, his palms stinging from the throw of the impact. He quickly shook his head to stop the damn dizzying sensation before he looked up with angry and irritable eyes at who or what had blocked his path.

His eyes immediately rolled into a sharp sapphire, wide and vulnerable. His body began shaking slightly, his hair dripping water from his now messy pale blonde hair. Nikolas felt the winds icy air being sucked into his throat as he stared into the eyes of who prevented him from reaching safety, sanctuary, shelter...

Standing proud and tall, hands at his sides clenched and tight, fingers woven into the scruff of some sort of animal pelt, stood the naked man. The water seemed to be the only tangible thing that glided across the strongly built males body. He had scratches of kelp matted into his hair, and a bit of sand had crawled up to his knees, but other than that he was bare, raw, naked. He didn't even seem to care as he grinned with dogmatic teeth, his chest puffed out like some wild burly seal trying to impress a potential mate.

A bit of watered down blood still slid down his nose and curled under his chin, but other than that he was perfect, handsome, and still very very very naked. Nikolas hesitantly blushed a bright red, edging away slightly from the stranger. Did the man have not an ounce of modesty? It was as if he was proudly and haughtily displaying himself to the scared and wide eyed Norwegian to gloat! Then, after a few tense seconds, the man, satisfied that he had gotten Nikolas's attention, darted his hands downward and heaved Nikolas up with a quick tug.

Nikolas yelped loudly before he regained his composure and growled, jerking his hands away, kicking up his soaked tennis shoes as he made a dash for the door, the glass door knob glittering, begging Nikolas to turn the knob to safety... But apparently fate had other plans.

As soon as Nikolas made a swerving movement and bucked his body forward, the taller blonde had snagged his long fingers into Nikolas's waist, pulling him back and jerking him up and over his shoulders. Nikolas breathed out windily as he landed on the broad shoulder of the strange man (potential rapist). He kicked madly and formed his shaking fingers into firsts, pounding them into the back of the persistent man with heavy blows. Naked or not, Nikolas was not going to just lay their like a sack of potatoes! He was going to fight damnit! Fight with his last breath!

The man paused in his long strides to gaze back at the wriggling Norwegian. Nikolas looked up and caught the mans laughing and cheery gaze and barred his teeth, snarling like a rabid dog.

"I'll call the cops on you! I'll scream 'rape'! I'll do it!" Nikolas shouted wildly, but the man simply chuckled and heaved the Norwegian to the edge of the shoreline where the grainy sand met in a sweet kiss with the ocean waves. Nikolas paled and felt the blood rush from his face. He had to get away, he had to punch the guy in the nose again and get the hell away from there!

"You're going to drown me?" Nikolas screamed, his voice hurting already from the stinging of the water still lodged in his throat. The golden haired man simply smiled brighter and, sinking into the water, slipped Nikolas from his shoulder to lull in the icy waves. Nikolas yelped as his body was smashed into the cold sea, his head dunking under the water for a mere second before he was propped up again, this time on the lap of the 'rapist'.

Nikolas screamed and kicked, trying to keep himself afloat as the stranger dragged him deeper into the currants of the sea, the waves ducking over his head spasmodically, the chill making Nikolas's brain numb and his teeth chatter. The man smiled happily before clutching Nikolas to him and kissing his deeply, sweetly, romantically. Nikolas fought against it and threw his head back and forth, like an angry horse, bent on escaping for dear life even if he got injured in the process. The man stopped the kiss reluctantly before he softly frowned, his eyes becoming a saddened deeper blue color. Nikolas furrowed his brow and stared at the man whose hands were wrapped securely against his waist, his gaze solemn and a bit hesitant. He turned his head behind him to gaze at the long stretch of sea, then back again to the dry land that housed Nikolas's cottage. He sighed and looked back to Nikolas, a sad smile wiped over his face. He hugged Nikolas tightly against the Norwegians protest and kissed his cheek lovingly, nuzzling it almost.

Suddenly, as spontaneous as the waves themselves, the man kicked his strong legs against the currant of the ocean and swam stealthily to shore, his body as smooth and graceful as a seal against the powerful crashing of the icy water. He ducked his head under the salty water and dragged an exhausted Nikolas back to the sandy beach, the Norwegians eyes heavily lidded, his breath coughing out in weak spurts, the cold numbing his body and making him shiver.

Once they beached themselves on the shore, the man stood and, still holding the velvety animal skin in his long fingers, hugged Nikolas to him by his waist. Nikolas sighed painfully as his body was pressed against something warm. He tossed his head up lazily and opened his eyes once more, feeling his blood sluggish and cold in his body, as if he was numb.

"Sorry..." A sheepish but still perfectly loud voice slowly seeped into Nikolas's ears like swimming raindrops. Nikolas groaned tiredly before pressing his head against the mans naked collar bone, too exhausted to care at this point.

"Wha-What were you thin...thinking?" Nikolas coughed out, water sliding past his lips, his clothes clinging to him like a second pair of skin. Nikolas made a low keening noise deep in his throat as the man sat down on the steps of the small cottage, his naked body collecting dirt and sand alike. The man sat the animal skin on his lap and placed Nikolas over it, wrapping his arms around the young boy. Nikolas weakly protested and tried to stand up to get into the cottage himself, still trying to escape this lunatic's grip.

It was a few tense seconds before the man finally spoke again, his voice sounding like the softest of streams padding lightly against wet sand. The man sighed. " I...I wasn't thinkin'. I just saw you crying and I became so worried that well, I guess I just kinda' snatched you up without thinkin'..."* The man murmured, his usually cheery grin replaced with a sullen pout. Nikolas squeezed his eyes tightly before looking back at other male that had so snugly cuddled up to him.

"What? I'm so...confused. Tell...Tell me who you are..." Nikolas growled out, pushing weakly against the males strong legs, trying to heave himself up and off the mans secure lap. The man suddenly grinned back again and sat up with a flurry of speed, holding Nikolas's body up, his wobbly legs jerking underneath him.

The stranger bent low to the ground, his nose almost touching the sand, before cupping Nikolas's hands in his nimble and stone cold fingers. Nikolas stared down at him with wide eyes, inching his body closer to the door knob, fiddling his elbow against the unlocked door frame, waiting for a chance to escape.

The golden haired man grinned wildly before kissing Nikolas's shaking hands with soft gentleness, sliding his cheek against Nikolas's wrist like some sort of animal. Nikolas blinked with shock, resisting the urge to flinch away from the mans feather like grip.

Then, quicker than it happened the man stood back up again, hands still clasped over Nikolas's, he grinned wide and triumphant, like a child that had just been given a toy.

Nikolas swallowed thickly, afraid of what would happen next.

"My name is Mathias, I traveled for seven long days from Danish waters, swimming deep in the currants of shark infested sea and surf, scavenging on whatever fish I could find, going without rest or sleep for days in order to fulfill my journey..." He gripped Nikolas's hands tighter, giving them a sudden squeeze. Nikolas's edged the tip of his wet and sand covered tennis shoe into the crack of the front door, lightly pushing it open just a bit.

"Oh? So then, what is your journey for?" Nikolas asked, his breath shaky and anxious, half of his left leg already tucked into the safety of the doorway. Mathias made a happy noise deep in his throat, blinking wondrously.

"I have ventured in from the monstrous waters, I have braved the storms of the ocean, and I'll not go back to the waves my bride, unless ya' come along with me..." Mathias smiled, barring his small canine fangs. Nikolas blinked, left dumbfounded for the merest of seconds before he performed the most logical action for this dire occasion...

He screamed like a frightened little girl, kicked Mathias in the groin hard enough to bleed, and tucked himself into the cottage, slamming the door behind him, leaving Mathias in a huddled mass next to the door, groaning deep in his throat.

"Was it somethin' I said?" Mathias called out in pain, his body rolling on the low cut porch.

...


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you for all the reviews and support! They mean a lot to me! I hope you enjoy the second chapter! I DO NOT OWN HETALIA, PLEASE REVIEW TO HELP KEEP THE RABID DOLPHINS AWAY FROM STEALING MAH BRAIN!

…...

Nikolas smashed his body against the rickety paint chipped door. His sopping wet tennis shoes skidded against the worn wooden floors of his cottage as his shaking and icy cold fingers jammed the lock of the door in place with a rough shove.

Immediately Nikolas took a well deserved breath of air, his wet hair clinging to his cheeks and forehead. The panicked and frightened Norwegian looked behind him once more, peering out of the small peephole welded against the oaken door. His dull eyes flashed a startled blue, the iris's becoming glassy as they stared down at the hunched and squirming body of the crazy psycho rapist. Nikolas made a tight and panicked noise in the back of his throat, quickly backing away from the door as if the thin piece of wood had caught on fire.

The Norwegian bit his lip and thought fast. He slammed his palms harshly into the door with anger before he quickly ran clumsily to the kitchen, passing by the small carpeted living room adorned with a heavy laden book case and a few family trinkets. As soon as he stumbled into the small kitchen—the linoleum floor collecting puddled water from his soaked jeans—Nickolas jerked closed the window blinds with a searing hiss and locked the door with a tight jam of his fingers. The Norwegian allowed himself to take a small breath of air before his numbing fingers scampered over the walls of the kitchen to retrieve the house phone, the old plastic body of it feeling comforting in the Norseman's constricting grip.

He leaned against the wooden table fretfully, chewing relentlessly on his bottom lip. He quickly held the phone in his shaking hands before his thin and pale fingers punched in the dials to a number that he desperately needed to talk to. He smashed the body of the phone to his ears and waited nervously as the impending ring of the phone drummed against his ears.

The Norwegian tapped his fingers desperately against the glassy counter of the kitchen table, his clipped nails making a hasty pattern of sound, filling in the eerie silence. God he hated this silence.

Nikolas had no clue what the man had meant with his speech, how he had appeared out in the harsh waves of the sea, or why he was completely naked! Nikolas sighed through his strained teeth, the phone on its second ring. He really didn't think he wanted to know.

Nikolas didn't even understand what the man had meant by, 'swimming in Danish waters for seven days' and 'wanting a bride'. The man was bat shit crazy! Nikolas growled out into the silent and cool air of the cottage, his teeth chattering, shoulders shaking. He would have to change out of his clothes as soon as possible, lest he get hypothermia. Nikolas shut his eyes tight, the phone on its third ring.

"Come on! Come on! Pick up! Pick up you damn-"

"Hei? Hello?"

Nikolas's eyes widened with hope, his palms smashed against the table.

"Ah! Tino! I need your help!"

"Oh, hello Nikolas, what do you need? You sound a bit out of breath, are you okay?" The soft and sweet voice of Nikolas's cousin asked through the line, the static killing some of the worry in his tone.

"No, I'm not all right! There was this guy in the water and he kissed—well, anyway, he followed me to the cottage and was spitting out some pretty weird shit! Tino, I think he's trying to rape me! Can you please come over! Oh! And bring your sniper rifle!" Nikolas breathed out with haste, almost chocking over his words. The Norwegian looked around nervously at the cottage window, ears on guard for the slightest noise or disturbance.

The Finn on the other line gasped out loud, his voice becoming a bit more frantic.

"Oh my God! Okay, I'll come over there and pick you up—Perkele!"* Tino's voice immediately halted.

"What? What?" Nikolas's asked into the cradle of the beige phone, his body hunched against the table. The Norwegian bit the inside of his cheek, pushing his body against the table to barricade up the kitchen door, the curtains pressed against the window panes, making the kitchen eerily dark.

"Perkele! Berwald took the car on his way to work, he won't be back till four!" Tino voiced out nervously, his breath panting out like Nikolas's, nervous and anxious.

Nikolas swore and slammed his hands on the granite counter tops.

"I'm sorry Nikolas, you're just going to have to call the police, hopefully they can help you!" The little Finn did his best to sound calm, collective. Nikolas sighed out bitterly through his teeth. He lightly bit into his thumb, unsure of what to do, how to defend himself.

"Okay... Thanks Tino, hopefully next time you see me I won't be in a body bag..." The Norwegian growled out bitterly.

"Oh Nikolas! Don't be like that! I'm sorry but Berwald has the car, what do you want me to do?" The Finn asked a bit angrily.

Nikolas sighed and combed his hands over his his wet hair, his toes feeling numb in his tennis shoes, his socks squishing against the rubber soles of the footwear.

"No, I-I'm sorry. I'm just a bit freaked out right now. I'll go call the police, thanks Tino." Nikolas said, glancing around the kitchen like a frighted deer.

Nikolas could here Tino breath out an anxious sigh.

"Okay Nikolas, I'll be at your house at four to check up on you and make sure you haven't been hacked to death..." Tino mumbled out, his voice thick and dosed with fear.

Nikolas laughed nervously. "Okay Tino, thanks..." Nikolas hung up the phone with a dull click! The dial tone disappearing into the silence, the eerie, horrible, frightening silence. Nikolas shut his eyes tight. He picked up the phone again and was about to hurriedly punch in the dials for the emergency police number when he heard a dull squeak of wood.

Alarmed out of his mind, the young Norwegian dropped the phone out of sheer fright, the dial tone balking out loudly into the once silent kitchen, the curled cord from the phone dangling down the legs of the table. Nikolas swallowed harshly.

"He—Hello?" Nikolas breathed out sourly into the air, damnable tears stinging his eyes. He wiped the heel of his hand against his prickling eyes and breathed wildly into the small and cozy kitchen.

Scratch... Squeak...Scratch...

Nikolas whirled his head around to gaze with glazed eyes over the small and sturdy kitchen, his navy eyes taking on a dull blackened rim from fear.

Scratch! Squeak! Scratch!

Nikolas threw his eyes downward with a sudden burst of speed that would put a wild jumping deer to shame.

His breath immediately froze dead cold in his throat as his eyes caught the swinging movement of the small wooden doggy door that were jolting madly back and forth. Nikolas blinked before he looked down at the flaps that his younger brother had built for their pet Puffin to walk in and out the house as he pleased. Nikolas was starting to regret ever having the damn thing built.

The Norwegian, on tip toes, walked over to the far right of the kitchen, his breath refusing to leave his shuddering lungs. Nikolas, with weary, startled eyes that shined in the slowly darkening kitchen, pawed at the granite counter top, opening shelves and drawers, trying to find a suitable weapon to defend himself with. Anything to allow him to fight back.

His fingers felt along the edges of one particular drawer before his hands closed around something sharp and pointed like the plume of a hawk's claws. A steel knife.

The Norwegian smiled grimly to himself before curling the heavy kitchen utensil in his shaking fingers, willing himself to calm the fuck down and not accidentally injure himself! If there was an intruder in the house, well then, Nikolas was going to give them one hell of a greeting.

Feeling a little ounce of courage race through his blood, the Norwegian took quiet and light steps towards the flapping door. He was a little more than four feet from the damn thing when he slid to the right of the doggy door, his legs hidden from view of whatever the hell was behind it.

Then, when he didn't hear a noise or a screech from the offender, Nikolas stopped, paused to breath, and raised the knife slowly, his eyes never leaving the plastic flap of the small opening.

"Come and get me fucker..." Nikolas breathed, raising the knife over the door, getting ready to make a downward slash as soon as the thing showed its face again. He would not show no fear...

"Such harsh names, that's not very nice, Norge." said a ringing and chuckling voice that caught Nikolas off guard. The Norwegian immediately flattened himself against the wall, his breath coming out in soft spurts.

"Who said that?" Nikolas demanded, his eyes rounding to show white. Well, shit. So much for not showing fear.

The voice from the other side of the door chuckled happily, and suddenly Nikolas heard shuffling, the shuffling noise form before. He gritted his teeth.

All of the sudden, without warning a jolt was shoved up against the door and a bristly mane of gold was pushed through the Dog/Puffin door. Nikolas let out a small shriek of a noise as he almost dropped the knife to the floor and onto his soaking wet tennis shoes for a painful surprise.

His breathing stopped and his mouth parted to make a silent scream for help, because, grinning like a maniac up at the Norwegian with bright blue eyes that shimmered like sapphire laid the head of the creepy psycho that had tried to rape him not but a few minutes ago.

Nikolas backed away very slowly, edging his eye sight to the phone that had by now quit it's load screeching of a dial tone.

"Eh? Where are you going? Aren't ya' gonna' invite me in?"The head asked, pouting slightly. The blonde Danish man shifted his neck, rubbing his shoulders and parts of his back against the grainy floor of the kitchen tiled linoleum, trying desperately to wedge his hulking body forward. He growled and scrunched up his brows, getting frustrated as his middle half wouldn't fit through the ruddy wooden frame of the Puffin Doggy door.

Nikolas at this point was ready to grab at the barbeque lighter fluid that they kept in their cabinet and pour it over the persistent man's head and lighting a match over him. Did the man ever give up? God he was like a cocky and obnoxiously brash Bull Seal during mating season! The Norwegian growled and bit his lips. He had to make it clear to this guy that he was certainly not in the mood to play games—especially not with someone who claimed to want to take him back to the ocean as his 'bride'. Whatever the hell that meant...

"I'll call the cops on you—they'll lock you up forever in a dank little cell for the rest of your life!" Nikolas tried to threaten, backing up, feeling around with his hands to grab at the phone, his other hand gripping the knife in a sure death grip, his knuckles turning a bone white.

The man, who had but a few seconds ago crawled away from the Puffin flap to now try and shimmy his way in the other way, his toned stomach scraping against the boney whitened tiles of the kitchen, his hands trying to give him leverage—as if he was a brooding seal flopping up and down in a soft up currant of sand, trying to free himself. The man looked up at Nikolas with a spiraling grin that made the Norwegian frown.

"Well, I can't have that now can I? I wouldn't survive even one night in jail!" The man muttered, more to himself than Nikolas. The Norwegian lowered his eyes, his gaze growing to thin slits.

"Why? Afraid you'll get your ass handed to you by a bunch of horny male prisoners?" Nikolas snorted, his thumb and index finger edging around the plastic casing of the phone.

The man, frowning deeply and shaking his head, turned his lips into a sour scowl.

"No—If I stay locked up in a cell by midnight tonight, I'll suffocate and die from lack of water..." He murmured, trying to jam his body further into the Puffin door, resulting in his sides to turn a bruised red from his damnable persistence.

Nikolas cocked his head to the side, looking to the man as if he was the most psychotic person he had ever seen—which was probably true considering the man was still trying to shimmy himself into a Puffin Doggy door completely naked. Oh yes, life's mocking certainly was funny, wasn't it?

"Look. I don't care what the hell you are, who you are, or why you are currently trying to break into my house. But, I will not hesitate to take this knife and cut you so far down your waist that you won't be able to have children in the near future.

The man visibly paled for a brief seconded before he collected himself, his wavering grin smeared over his face.

"You wouldn't do that..." The man said with confidence, his hands grabbing around for the table that was wedged near the door, trying to used the tables boney legs as leverage so he could pull his way into the house.

Nikolas took another step backward, the knife loosening in his grip.

"Oh? Why wouldn't I?" Nikolas growled, his hands sliding over the counter's cold surface, eyes keeping their steady and unmoving gaze on the cocky man that had titled himself as Mathias. Nikolas gritted his teeth. That name was Danish... Damn these crazy drunken Danish tourists and their weird mating rituals and persistence.

Mathias shifted his gaze over to the Norwegians slowly, his hair still beaded with water, making it look more wild as it pushed against the chipping paint of the wood on either side of him. The Danes lips made a slow upturn, a quick little grin that promised a world of disaster and mischief. Nikolas swallowed thickly. Oh this would not be good.

"You won't cut off my manhood—because you've already seen it, therefore you would think it a pity to rid a man of something so...eye catching. Isn't that right, my little bride. You'd rather die than to cut up such a perfect body..." He smirked, his voice haughty and sure. His eyes glimmered a flash of color that shifted between icy blue and sapphire, his grin widening to show sharp canine teeth.

Nikolas took a sharp intake of breath, his lips gone dry. Then, finally, with the reawakened emotion of wrath, the Norwegian was able to get a grip on himself as he leaned against the counter, his hands balled into fists, knife all but forgotten. His face was stained an angry red as vibrant as the blood that heatedly coursed through his blood.

"You really are an asshole!" Nikolas spat, his eyes murderous, voice venomous. The man's smile split into something wider, something more vicious, more smoldering. Nikolas blinked and swallowed, feeling his pulse beat wildly in his mouth.

"No my love—I am a Selkie, a poor lonely beast that has roamed the waters of Skagerrak, away from the comfort of my warm tide pools of the South, to gaze upon your sweet face. I do not wish to hurt you, I only wish for ya' to come back to the waters edge with me as my Queen—Lady of the Selkies."* He spoken evenly, his eyes somber, but his deafening smile still set in place as a vicious reminder that this man was still very dangerous. And very delirious... Nikolas thought with disgust.

"Oh? That's just great. You want me, to go with you, down to the sea to become a seal bride. Yeah, sure okay—while were at it why don't we call my cousin Tino, he's marrying a Troll in a few months, it can be a double wedding!" Nikolas spoke with heated sarcasm, his words biting into the air.

The Danish man seemed to not care. He just shrugged his shoulders and did his best to loosen his arms from the doggy door.

"If ya' would like a double wedding, I have no problem with it..." He murmured simply, a streak of water dripping down from his sand flanked jaw.

Nikolas's eyes widened in shock before his lips parted and he gave out a frustrated gasp, throwing his hands up into the air.

"I don't believe this—I don't fucking believe this!" He shouted to the ceiling, his arms raised up to the sky, the soaking wet clothes on his body clinging awkwardly to his frame, weighing him down considerably. He was cold, wet, hung ray, and now he had to deal with the intolerant ramblings of a crazy Danish man. Oh how could life get any worse?

Now it was Mathias's turn to look confused. The Danish man quirked his fine blonde eyebrows up and bit his lip, his eyes droning into a saddened navy blue color before shifting into a drowning pool of blue.

"Then... you don't believe me?" Mathias murmured, his eyes cautious, studying over the frightened and very pissed off face of the Norwegian man in front of him.

"Believe you? Believe you? Of course I don't fucking believe you! You come up from the damn ocean naked, pull me under the water, kiss me, almost drown me, follow me to my house, and then tell me that you are a Selkie Lord who want's me for his bride? What the fuck am I supposed to say to that? Oh yes Mr. Seal Lord—please, lay me down on the beach, let me take off my pants so that we can enjoy our freakishly-flippered honeymoon." He screamed, his voice rising higher and higher with each stuttering gasp for air.

"That's a start..." The Dane murmured smugly.

The Norwegian unleashed a heavy glare onto Mathias who was leaning on the weight of his elbows, his smile back in place, hands lazily cupping his chin. He chuckled.

"Well then, perhaps I should show ya' that I am really am telling the truth." He grinned, lifting his head up from his hands to press his fingers into the wedges and crannies of the tiled floor. Nikolas crossed his arms over his chest and made a slow snort from his mouth.

"If you can convince me that you are indeed a Selkie Lord then...then... I'll let you take me as your bride. I won't fight you. I'll go willingly." Nikolas scoffed, his tone mocking, his eyes cold. There was no way in hell this guy was who he says he was. Nikolas knew a magical being when he saw one. Years of reading old Norse Mythology books and monster encyclopedia's in his spare time had given him a well trained sight for the unusual and often hidden creatures that roamed the world of the mortals. There was no way Mathias was one of these beings. The man was just too stupid!

The Dane gave a quick twitch of his lips, his smile turning into a shit-eating-grin that made Nikolas want to puke all over the kitchen floor. The Norwegian placed his hands on his hips, his eyes expectant, waiting.

Mathias made a lazy show in pushing himself up from the doggy door. With a few scrapes from his elbows and a few—if not on purpose—thrusts of his hips to expose a line of smooth and muscular stomach, the man made a fleeting gasping movement before he slipped out from the Puffin door to wait on the other side. Nikolas, a bit wary of the lack of vision of the Dane from behind the door, tilted his head over to the curtained window, his curiosity getting the better of him.

The Norwegian was just inches from twisting his shaking fingers into the thin strips of curtain blinds to settle his gaze on the Dane, when he heard a low and guttered groan that sounded like a man. The Norwegian, scared out of his mind, took a step back, just in time to glance downward to the linoleum tiled floor to catch a glimpse of a foot, fleshy and definitely human. The foot was balanced on it's toes and Nikolas immediately came to the conclusion that it was the Danes, as on the sole of the foot was a slop of mud and sand from the mans 'fall' near the door.

Then, his gaze still fixed on the strained foot, the Norwegian heard the unmistakeable groan again, this time more pained, more throaty and gasping—as if someone was in the middle of having...

The Norwegian's ears tinted a blood red crimson as he pushed away from the floor with his palms, his arms shaky, eyes not daring to leave the little vision he had of the Dane.

Then, with a swift movement, the foot began to shake, and soon a dark cloth of something soft was fitted over it like the wind had swept over the flesh and sunk fibers of musky brown into the skin. Fur. His skin was fitting itself with fur. Nikolas immediately remembered the skin in the man's hand, the seal hide that he kept betwixt his fingers as if it was his most valued treasure. Nikolas swallowed thickly, suddenly regretting what he had just said and ultimately bargained himself into.

After a few seconds of silence, the Norwegian's ears were met with the heavy pants and bellows of a type of animal. The sounds grew larger as the Norwegian could make out a shifting and sliding near the door, a low croon that made Nikolas's eyes widened with fright.

It sounded like a seal. But that was impossible... Wasn't it?

The Norwegian wasn't so cure any more.

Smack!

Nikolas yelped as he felt something barrel itself against the door, as if a charging bear had rammed it's skull against the thinly wooden frame, causing the bolts to shudder and quake with a sickening sound. The Norwegian clutched his hands around his knees as he backed up to the counter, scooting himself as far away from the door while still gazing out into the Puffin flaps that were shaking violently from the impact of the beast. Nikolas tried to gain a clue as to what the hell was happening, his teeth biting into his lips painfully as his cold stare caught the glint of a dark and dull brown flipper, rivets and small scars drifting along the smoothed and velvety flesh, making the Norwegian gasp with fright.

Then, with enough power to knock three men unconscious, the beast behind the door made a low bellow deep in his throat as he knocked his body into the door—causing the damn thing to unhinge all together and to swing lifelessly from it's joints.

Nikolas, a small tear trailing down his face, immediately stared into black obsidian eyes that seemed to laugh at him.

Standing on all floors, it's long and tubular body shining sleekly, sat the body of a huge seal, his eyes blinking, mouth open to reveal small tusk like teeth that glinted dangerously.

Nikolas pressed his back painfully into the granite counter, his hands gripping against his body numbly, trying to shield himself.

"Holy shit..." He breathed, his gaze never leaving the hulking mass that was the Seal.

The animal seemed to smile, his big yet powerful flippers waddling himself closer to the wildly breathing Norwegian. Nikolas's eyes widened as the animal steadily gained ground. Nikolas knew enough of the biology of a seal to know this was a male—a giant Bull seal, a few hundred pounds give or take a few.

The animal, once at a satisfied distance closer to the Norwegian, lulled his head downward to place it in the Norseman's strained lap. Nikolas took in a cold suck of air as the seal gently nudged his heavy head in the Nordic man's lap, the heals slippery and thick fur still a bit damp from the water.

The Norwegian, shivering, his eyes wide, looked into those big obsidian eyes and cringed when the animal made a keening whine in the back of his throat, his head nuzzling Nikolas's stomach.

Nikolas swallowed thickly before looking down at the big and weighty beast.

Nikolas looked into those deep and pleased eyes and said the only words he dared breath into the now shiveringly cold air of the broken in kitchen.

"M-Mathias...Is that you?" Nikolas breathed with a shuttered breath.

"Ayuuuunnn..." The creature whined, rolling his head downward, his snout digging against the belt buckle of Nikolas's soaked jeans. The Norwegian bit his lip and ground his teeth as the seal began to gnaw at the leather belt, trying to free it from the Norwegian's pants.

Oh yes, it's definitely Mathias... Nikolas thought with anger as he cuffed the oversized seal on the top of his head, the animal giving a low grunt of faux pain. Nikolas had seen a lot of strange things in his life—but this one took the cake.

The Norwegian, though a bit less afraid now, if that was even a possibility at this point any more, ran his hands through his hair, taking a low an fringed sigh. Oh how could this day just get any more weirder?

The seal, done with his antics, coiled it's head back to it's smoky skinned body before taking a few off balanced steps backward, giving an ample amount of room between the startled and a bit pissed Norwegian and Mathias—the seal boy.

Nikolas was about to bit out some insult in the air, making some wise crack about how Mathias's ass looked twice as big in the body of a seal when all of the sudden the animal began to shake and make low sounds in his throat, as if he was shaking off some sea and lather from his body.

But then, as if to confuse the Nordic man more, the seal threw up his head and planted his feet to the floor, flexing it's blubber covered muscles before, with a dripping movement of clear watery liquid that flew from the seals haunches and shoulders, stomach and neck, the fur began to slip and dissolve off the seal, peeling away like a blanket of hide.

The sounds of bones popping whispered into the room as flexed flippers began to bleed away into the long fingers of a man, the nails edged at each digit growing a paler color till they were reduced to clipped stubble's. Ears grew from the holes on the side of the seals ears, making human flesh appear around the nape of the mans forming neck to show a gruff of hair. Finally, the piece of hide began to curl off like feathery skin to reveal the crouched and very naked body of Mathias, his grin in place, smile reaching from ear to ear.

A puddle of clear and oily liquid was left on the floor, casting off shadows of color in the light that bled in from the busted door.

Nikolas's eyes widened in silent shock, his hands covering his mouth. What the fuck did he just witness? A Werewolf transformation or some kinda' freaky shit like that?

"Well, impressed?" Mathias barked out, his voice still hoarse, sounding like a mix between a human chuckle and a seal howl. Nikolas swallowed his pulse in his throat.

"I...I...I..." Nikolas couldn't speak in complete sentences let alone spell out the emotions that came with watching the scene of a seal transform into the shape of a man.

Mathias, seeming to see the lack of the right words from the Norwegian, took it upon himself fill in the awkward silence.

"Let me guess, it was amazing, exciting, earth shattering?" He supplied helpfully, balancing on the tips of his toes, his palms laid flat on either side of Nikolas, his body still very naked and dripping in water and that milky substance that was puddled around the floor, the seal of the skin not to far off from his outstretched hands.

Nikolas, catching his breath, stared into the eyes of the Danish man, no, the Danish Selkie, and felt this heart beat wildly in his chest.

"It was..." Nikolas swallowed thickly. "Interesting." He replied dully, his eyes doing their best to regain their neutral state—their cold glare.

Mathias frowned, not at all pleased with that choice of word.

"Well..." The Danish man leaned into Nikolas, his hands quickly trapping themselves on either side of the watery blondes head. Nikolas bit in a quick mouthful of air before he did his best to slid his face away from the Danish man's advancing grin.

"We'll just have to work with what we have then, aye? 'Interesting'... It's a start." He murmured, his chin nuzzling into Nikolas's neck, making the Norwegian bite against his teeth, doing his best to free his legs from underneath the mans weight.

"A start from what?" He asked, biting his nails into his sweating palms, leaving small pinkish crescent marks. Mathias smiled, Nikolas feeling the twitch of his lips on his throat.

"A start from when you stop saying 'interesting' and start moaning 'sexy' 'enticing' 'arousing' 'irresistible'" Mathias purred low in his throat, pressing his bare flesh against Nikolas's, grinding his hips experimentally against the young Norsemen, making a fluttered gasp escape the Norwegian's lips before he rolled his eyes back to show hazy white—promptly fainting from the danger in the Selkie Lords words...

…...

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Sorry, my knowledge of seals is not very good! Please Review!

Authors Notes:

-"Oh my God! Okay, I'll come over there and pick you up—Perkele!"*-'Perkele' means 'Fuck' in Finnish.

-"No my love—I am a Selkie, a poor lonely beast that has roamed the waters of Skagerrak, away from the comfort of my warm tide pools of the South, to gaze upon your sweet face. I do not wish to hurt you, I only wish for ya' to come back to the waters edge with me as my Queen—Lady of the Selkies."*- 'Skagerrak' is a small sea in between Norway, Sweden and Denmark.

-Selkies are seal shape shifting creatures that dwell in the waves of the sea. They are mythological creatures who, when stripped of their seal skin, turn in a human sought out for their beauty by fishermen for wives or husbands. When there skin is taken away from them and hidden, they cannot return back to the sea, back to their home.


	3. Chapter 3

Shit...I haven't updated this in a while! Sorry guys! I beg for your forgiveness! Also, I have an announcement. All my stories chapters will be shorter—but updated more frequently. So don't you fret! This chapter goes out to Angel Yori whose kind words kept me going! I Do not own Hetalia or it's characters, if I did Denmark would be naked alllll the time.

…...

It was warm. A dizzying feeling that made his lungs burn—no, starve. Yes. Starve. It was a froth of warmth, a delicate curling under his chin, like lapping waves, his head resting on something soft and slick, warm and...warm and...Comforting? Yes. The heat at his back was nice. It revealed his tension, it made him take deeper breaths. It made him feel...at ease.

"Ah!" His eyes flew open. Wide and impossibly blue.

No. Deeper breaths hurt. They stung and were none to pleasant. They made his lungs cry and his eyes flutter. In an instant, the young Norwegian, confusion melding over his pale face, took a swallowed breath from his lips, only to choke as something warm and thin streaked into his open mouth, making him gag and cough with throaty groans, his eyes squeezing painfully shut and open, spasmodically like a drugged dance as his muscles slowly gave out.

I can't breathe! I can't breathe! Nikolas thought with sudden alarm, his body becoming warmer and warmer, hotter and hotter as something taunt and fleshy seemed to rake his body upward, his legs feeling as if they'd grown lip.

His arms were the first to touch the sensation of cool and salty air.

Fingers flexed and wrists curled.

Water. Water beading down his cheeks to collect in droplets at his chin, hair wet and clinging, body wracking with cold, feet numbing with warmth. It was so...alien and yet it felt so familiar.

There was a familiar scent as well, he could smell it. A musky scent, a furry scent. Like slicked oil and the gum from clam shells. Like grainy sand and withering seaweed, chunks of packed salt and scaly pearls. It smelled...Like the sea.

Twitching his nose up Nikolas was glad to find the burning from his lungs gone as he tasted air, oxygen, his throat still bruised and itchy from obviously gulping down water from God knows where. That's right. He didn't know where he was. He could be lying under the beached dock by now, or face first into a tide pool with a damned sea star sucking his face off.

Nikolas frowned, his head feeling much too dizzy for his own comfort. It hurt, like his head was three sizes too small and his oncoming migraine five sizes too big.

Nikolas made a quick slip of his tongue over his lips as he tasted salt. Sea water to be exact. Warm and grainy. But it didn't quite taste like seawater. It was just...salt? It tasted like someone had just taken a whole pitcher of hot water and took a healthy scoop of salt and mixed it haphazardly. He could also taste some of his precious bubble bath oil and scented soap salts... It was a horrible mixture to say the least.

"Awful..." Nikolas mumbled as his eyes focused open, his eyelashes beaded with water that stung mildly from the diluted salt water. His limbs ached and his back was pressed tightly against something that was steadily moving with a rhythmical touch to it.

Cautiously, slowly, Nikolas used his fingers to sway into the mixture that seemed to swirl around him, a mixture of cloudy water that moved like silk between his hands. With shaky breath that hurt his lungs too much to speak, the young Norwegian, calmly and a bit subdued, grabbed at something cool and white.

Porcelain.

Porcelain? Just where exactly was he?

Feeling the odd and cool sliding expanse of white as his fingertips, he sat up and craned his neck over the barrier of white. His vision caught the flash of shiny tiles, linoleum covering that dotted spotted sight in a familiar shifting of pale and off white colors—his bathroom floor.

Well. At least that was an acquainted sight.

Yet his head was still spinning, lungs still burning, nose still watering with the scent of heavy salt smells and... his back! What was moving at his back?

With a start Nikolas felt something like pressure at his back. It wasn't soft like before—no. It was digging, burying. It was like fingers. Short nailed fingers rubbing against his back, knuckles wedging against his bony body to create circles of red iron on his flesh. A massage. He was being given a massage.

With a jump in the milky water that resulted in almost half of the tub's liquid to spray all over the floor, Nikolas screamed, understanding that he was not alone in the small paint peeled bathroom. He was with someone, something—this was not good.

Whirling his head around, his mouth still spitting a ear curdling scream, his eyes violently sank into the figure that, not but a few seconds ago had been molding his fingers into his skin in a too-close-for-comfort kind of way. Eyelashes peeling back to show a slab of terrified blue, Nikolas felt his heart leap from his chest to nestle in his throat, chocking any sounds of a scream that he once had.

Leaning against the tub, a lazy dogmatic smile on his face, lounged Mathias. Mathias. The Dane, the Seal—The Selkie Lord.

"Oh dear God..." Nikolas breathed with disgust, his mouth snapping open like a drawbridge about to let loose a flood or curses. And that's just what he did.

"Why are you here? You dirty bastard!" Nikolas shouted, his breath slowly chilling in his throat as his back met the cold air of the bathroom. A window had been open to let in the salty sea air, Nikolas could taste it in his throat—among other things. It was that thought that worried him...

"I'm here ta' relax. Just a lover amusing himself in his love's company 's all." Mathias stated with a queer little giggle, his body sinking against the back of the tub. Nikolas blushed a violent red as he pressed his own back deep against the porcelain, very much aware that he was naked, naked in a tub with a Selkie. A horny Selkie with devilish intents. Nikolas almost contemplated throwing himself out the damned window—but knowing his luck he'd probably live and be hoisted over the brutish Dane's shoulders. That was one outcome he did not want to see happen. Not one bit.

"Get out of my house before I call the Cop's." Nikolas breathed out through his teeth. He hugged his knees to his chest, his shoulders beginning to shiver. He had to get out of here...

"I will not pretend to know what ya' speak of...But I'm sure I will not leave this house, least...Not without you as my bride..." Mathias murmured with shifting glee. The damn Dane had enough audacity to wedge his long legs out, the small froth of bubbles and bath salts that had been practically dumped into the petite bathtub doing very little to hide his...well...um...his... Nikolas breathe out a sigh of frustration as he willed his eyes to stay fiercely staring into the Dane's forehead and not his...Other head.

"Like what you see?" Mathias breathed, his breath coming out in a puff of steam at the added heat from the swirling bath water and the light breath of the ocean air from outside.

Nikolas' face took on the color of a setting sun, red and angry along the oceans pale beaches. He gritted his teeth with pure disgust—disgust at the Seal Lord and at his own self for wanting to take another glance downward. Damn this man and his forked tongue.

"Get. Out." Nikolas tried again, his voice becoming overly hoarse, his heart begging for rest as it pounded on and on, the sound of blood rushing to his head a familiar thing by now.

Mathias snickered, his hands coming up from the water to rest forcibly on the lip of the snow white tub, elbows crooked and bent, hair sliding with water to spike up.

Nikolas took a small gasp of air, his legs sinking into his body, his arms and feet like a spring board waiting to thrust upward and run like a damn deer away from the frightening waters edge. Water that held something ungodly, something mysterious and cruelly beautiful. Something like him. A Selkie King.

Nikolas had heard of them. Knew of them. He and his cousin would spend stormy nights up in the attic reading about them from dust covered books by electric lantern light while they stuffed their faces with Sirupsnitter cookies and warm milk.* They licked their thumbs of cookie crumbs and turned the pages to wonderful books illustrated in faded ink of browns, blues and greens—some even in gold. Their young eyes were greeted with pictures of peach skinned women lounging by the sands edge, a seal skin at their feet, tears in their eyes. Nikolas would always wondered why always, always, always, the Selkies in his books where crying...

But as the years past he soon forgot about them and their lonely tales. He fostered a love for Trolls, Dwarfs, Frey and many others, the tale of the Seal people all but forgotten. He was weened off them, off their tragic stories of one sided love. A Selkie was always destined to find love and loose it.

Now he knew what the man before him was. Dangerous and Piteous. Seal-like things they were, 'Water Nymphs' his Finnish cousin called them. But Nikolas liked the name 'Selkie' much better. It reminded him of cold silk along your hand on a hot summers day. A wonderful feeling. But these creatures were not wonderful. They were weak and selfish if anything else. He knew because the books told him so, explained to him their nature and their ways.

A body that smelled like salt, like something wild, something smooth yet as hard as pearls. Something mysterious, something hidden in the tangles of kelp and sand. Smiles of white sharp teeth and eyes the color of the sea. They were twisted by fate—sailors lost at sea and damned in the body of a seal. Suicides gone wrong at the waters edge, resulting in the slow and lonely life of a creature feared by many. No one knew how they came to be, but that was a reason to fear them, because they hunted by the sound of ones heart out of loneliness. Forgotten things bent to the will of a fate that shuns them. A Seal swimming out to the currant, listening with desperate breath to the sound of a beating heart to love.

Nikolas shivered. He would not become a Selkie, not if his life depended on it.

Curling his fingers to his chest that hid his own heart, he tried his best to cover his lower area as best as he could before, with a snarl that sounded like it would come from a trapped animal, Nikolas quickly and skittishly stood up with a dash, his legs wobbling to hold him up.

From the corner of his eye Nikolas saw Mathias, grin still in place, try to clutch his fingers around Nikolas' ankle, short little nails that belonged to a Seal more than a man leaving small red crescents of red on his skin.

With a quick kick of his legs Nikolas scrambled out of the tub like a waddling creature escaping the clutches of a snapping shark, his feet kicking up more water then ever into the small bathroom. He was sure that Mathias was dangerous—most creatures of the Old times usually were. The Dane was no exception. But Nikolas couldn't think of that now, he couldn't add any more fear or danger to his mind, not when that fearful thing was about inches from dragging him back into the water.

With a shove so quick Nikolas yanked his body halfway over the tub, his strategy to crawl, dig, scratch his nails into the linoleum floor of the bathroom and get the hell out of there!

His feet were sloshing madly in the water, the sensation of slippery hands clinging onto his waist made him jolt and sputter, his eyes widening as he heard a chuckle from behind him.

"Such fire and spirit! You shall make a fine bride...However..." Mathias' voice seemed to smirk as his fingers pressed deeper into Nikolas' wriggling skin, the Norwegian huffing and panting, trying to crawl away from him, his hips grating painfully against the cold and hard lip of the tub.

At the sound of mirth and teasing in the Dane voice Nikolas made a small, costly move of his gaze to glance behind at his body, his eyes growing as wide as the moon on a winter night as his white washed hips were being held by strong sun warmed arms. Little clumps of sticky salt scoffed on his thighs and legs as the Norwegian clumsily made his way over and out of the tub with a final kick, his knees knocking into a thick wooden cabinet, his lips yowling in pain as his feet buckled beneath him.

But before his body tumbled to the ground in his mad hast as he tried to run away from the confusing and, if he dared to admit, awfully mind numbing situation, his flesh rose to goosebumps as a warm and slippery extended arm saved his head from smashing into the porcelain sink.

Not like he very much wanted to be saved at this point.

With a yank and a loud yelp, Nikolas was lightly yet all too forcefully, smashed into something even wetter and slicker, the smell of sea salt almost making his eyes bleed water.

With a moan that sounded like the growl of a Troll, Nikolas pressed his palms flat against that warm expanse of water—a wall of water, and took a few shaky breaths, his almost fall and plunge enough to have shaken him up.

It was only when his blue eyes made a sharp mad dash of a blink, was Nikolas able to put a safe distance from him and the very body that was now trying to cling to him. Yet it was only an elbows distance, barely even anything, and that small amount of space was slowly being violated as the heavy and hot body of the Dane was towering over him, pushing Nikolas against a wall until Nikolas felt the stinging sensation of dry and peeling wallpaper cling to his back as he fell backwards, his naked rear hitting the cold and puddled floor. He grimaced.

"Imagine my luck when I found you. You sweet little thing..." Mathias breathed, his lips vibrating against Nikolas' like a steaming waterfall. Nikolas bit his lip, his mouth pooling with heated breath. His stomach twisted like wonderful nausea—as if he liked this. Liked being caught and pinned. Liked being prey.

"I...I...Let me go..." Nikolas' voice was weak, hands being held down hard by long fingers that bit into his skin. His head was matted and wet as cold water fell in droplets onto his bare shoulders, his bare body.

"I don't think ah' want to. I could have you, you know. Now. Here. Like this..." Mathias purred, his lips attacking Nikolas' throat with dulled and careful nips, enough to make the light haired blonde hiss. One red mark after the other, one little nip, a suck, a bite...

"I don't want...thi—is..." Nikolas breathed, his neck hurting from the weight of the larger males head as he practically laid across Nikolas like a thick wet blanket, the Norwegian's legs being roughly pulled at. Nikolas ground his teeth together.

Damnit...

"Imagine my surprise when I found you—sweet little human you were. I could barely contain my happiness..." Mathias breathed, his tongue gliding along Nikolas' collar bone. Nikolas twitched his head away, his eyes sliding painfully shut, his head becoming numb with something...Something not all together bad, but not all together good... it was...Dangerously lovely. It frightened him.

"Ah' thought you were a girl—a little lady, a sand walker..." Mathias spoke, almost to himself as he shifted his body, his cheek rubbing against Nikolas', the smell of rock salt and kelp biting into his skin, making Nikolas' eyes water.

"Didn't know I had found a Bull as a bride. Though I'm not picky... I can do good with this smooth body a' yers..."* Mathias chuckled huskily, his fingers massaging lightly against Nikolas' thighs, a small whimper escaping the Norsemen.

"Don't..." Nikolas growled, his eyes becoming wet with tears, face flushed with humilation. Mathias chuckled once more, his hands lifting themselves from the Norwegians flesh slowly, softly, like sand being washed by the waves.

"I won't touch ya'. Won't soil ya'... I love ya' too much for that..." Mathias grinned, his body slowly lifting itself from Nikolas' cowering one, the Norwegian shivering and shaking—not just because of the cold.

"Wouldn't take ya without yer permission... Though my body aches to..." Mathias smiled cheekily, standing up with a creek of his knees and a bend in his legs.

Nikolas growled dangerously, his eyes steady on the floor. He had almost been raped—ha almost been... ugh. Nikolas scrubbed his hands over his legs and arms, his neck feeling wet and sticky, his face smelling of salt and too much bath oil.

"You say you love me, that you want me to join you as your bride—yet you treat me like shit." Nikolas spoke spite, his teeth chattering slightly.

Mathias' eyes widened, his hair dripping wet, brows knitted together.

"I...Don't underst—" he was cut off.

"I'm not a Seal! I'm not an animal like you, I'm a fucking human being!" Nikolas snarled, his back straitening as he pushed himself up from the wall, his abashed be damned.

Mathias took a step back at the Norwegian's voice, his eyes blinking.

"I know yer human...I was just tying to-"

One again he was cut off.

"Trying to what? I'm not something you can just fuck around with and expect to trust you! It doesn't work that way! You try to drown me, try to rape me and now you want me to believe that you won't do it again—that you won't 'soil' me? How do I believe you? How do I know you need me—that you won't just try to kill me by throwing my body out to the ocean rocks—that you won't drown me in a forest of kelp like they say you will in my story books..." Nikolas' eyes began to water, his breath becoming short and ragged, cheeks puffing red. He was crying, sobbing. A Selkie was not to be trusted. They were creatures molded out of pity and love. They were selfish and cruel to those they sought—they only wanted your heart, only wanted you to be one of them, only wanted to love you when it was convenient. Nikolas didn't want that. He had carried the burden of life for too long. He was always the strongest, the one that took care of everything, the one that saved, fought and perceived. Well now he was tired. Now he was weak. He didn't want to save. He wanted to be saved.

Mathias stared, his eyes ever blinking, ever searching.

"How do I know...that you're not just after my heart because I was there. Because I was most convenient..." Nikolas looked up, his eyes shining wet and wild.

"How do I know... That you need me..." Nikolas' voice shuddered, his mind hurting, bleeding, barking at him to shut up. To shut the fuck up. This wasn't real. This wasn't happening. He wasn't laying down his burden for this man. For this thing. He didn't even know if Mathias really was who he said he was...If this was all fate, real life. If this was meant for him. He wouldn't let this man help him, this creature. He wouldn't let him caress him and take care of him, love him and protect him. But Nikolas needed protecting. He had had too many walls around him—too many reefs, tangled webs of water and sharp rocks to keep him in. He had done too much to preserve hope in his heart. Well now he was done, Now he was giving his hope to this man—this King. This lord of creatures of pity who love and hate as if the two were intertwined. Selkies were loyal to the ones they loved when it was convenient. Be they human or creature. Nikolas didn't want to be convenient. He thought he deserved that much.

"How do I know that you need me...?" Nikolas asked again, his words too forced, too jumbled as they left his throat.

Mathias sighed, his face pulling into something sorrowful, something painful and real. Something meant to be hidden but forcibly told.

"I...I do need you..." Mathias breathed, his blue eyes shining like the waves on a sad and lonely day when the sun doesn't show and the winds are too tired to breathe. It made Nikolas bit into his lip, his fingers wrapping themselves round his bare arms.

"Why do you need me? Why me for your bride?" Nikolas bit out, his voice balancing on spite and desperation.

Mathias' eyes twitched downward and upward, his breath halting in his throat as he swallowed thickly, his legs starting to shake, his naked self shown to Nikolas like a prisoner on trial. He couldn't hide anything, not like this, not when he was so bare and vulnerable.

"I...Need you because, If you do not love me, if I loose you... If you do not return my love, then..." Mathias shuddered as if he tasted something sad and bitter.

Nikolas waited.

"Then...I will die."

As the words were spoken a bell tolled, a shrill ringing of sound that made Nikolas and Mathias' bolt their heads to the left, the door doing little to muffle the sounds of clicking and then shuffling.

"Nikolas—Nikolas? It's me—Tino! I've brought Berwald with me! Nikolas—are you there? I'm coming upstairs! Nikolas? Are you alright? Nikolas?" The voice from Nikolas' cousin sounded from downstairs.

Nikolas swallowed deep in his throat before, with a slow turn of his head, his eyes locked onto the Selkie Lord standing right before him, his eyes just as wide and just as frightened.

"No Tino...No, I'm not alright..." Nikolas breathed into the cold air that tasted like wind and the cold ocean—right before it's deadly waves sucks a ship down beneath the icy waters...

…...

Authors Notes:

WHY IS THIS STORY SO SAD ALL OF THE SUDDEN? (Because Selkie stories are usually really sad!) But it will pick up and get better—I promise you!

…

-He and his cousin would spend stormy nights up in the attic reading about them from dust covered books by electric lantern light while they stuffed their faces with Sirupsnitter cookies and warm milk.* -A Norwegian Cookie eaten mostly during Christmas. It's rectangular and has a nut—usually almond wedged on it.

-"Didn't know I had found a Bull as a bride. Though I'm not picky... I can do good with this smooth body a' yers..."*- A 'Bull' is a male Seal.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh Denmark, you idiot... Well, hope you guys like it so far!
> 
> Authors Notes:
> 
> -"After hearing the news six years ago that his parents had died in a car accident on thier trip to Oslo, Nikolas had filled in the role of provider at the early age of sixteen.*"- "Oslo" is the capitol of Norway.
> 
> -Selkies are seal shape shifting creatures that dwell in the waves of the sea. They are mythological creatures who, when stripped of their seal skin, turn in a human sought out for their beauty by fishermen for wives or husbands. When there skin is taken away from them and hidden, they cannot return back to the sea, back to their home.
> 
> -" I...I wasn't thinkin'. I just saw you crying and I became so worried that well, I guess I just kinda' snatched you up without thinkin'..."*- If a maiden wishes to make contact with a Selkie male, they have to go to the edges of the sea and shed seven tears into the sea.


End file.
